


Unfortunate Inspiration

by thatonekid_gotakunerd



Series: Nymphverse (Supernatural) [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cults, I am still writing this series, I just like her, I'm just slow as per usual, Magic, More Destiel, Other, SO, They're my children, WOO, a little bit of sam and eileen, but she's not involved in the main case rn, longer and more complex case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29406492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonekid_gotakunerd/pseuds/thatonekid_gotakunerd
Summary: This time, it's the Nymphs who reach out to the Winchesters for help -- there's a human starting a cult, and some of the tactics seem a little bit too familiar. Sam, Dean, and Cas make their way to check it out.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy & Sam Winchester
Series: Nymphverse (Supernatural) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1342780
Kudos: 1





	1. Eileen

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am back for a bit. The first couple chapters are relationship development/me having fun. Pretty much just slightly awkward fluff. Then it gets into the case for this one. 
> 
> I have maybe half of this written before I post, so we'll see how this goes. My post schedule's always a bit shitty, tho. As always, I will try to include any warnings for y'all. The main thing is cults in this one, but specific cult tactics/abuse don't feature super heavily? If you're an ex-convert/apostate/former cult member of any kind, you probably know your boundaries best, though.

“Wow. So you’re in Saint Louis now?” He asked, checking his understanding of Eileen’s most recent hunts. 

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s not surprising, given how old some of the city is, but there’s a lot of ghost activity here.” 

He nodded. 

“I came to town because there was a vengeful spirit in the courthouse, but I’m pretty sure one of the buslines is haunted, too.” 

She signed as she talked, and Sam did his best to follow along that way, too, but he didn’t catch everything. He tried to do the same, but signing and talking at the same time was harder than signing. He couldn’t keep the separate structures both in his head without some interesting mistakes. 

Still, he felt he was improving. Eileen didn’t have to go quite as slowly or explain as many words. He didn’t want her to have to simplify what she wanted to say for his sake. 

“A haunted bus line sounds like a big job. You want any help?” He felt a little flutter of excitement at the thought of working with her -- seeing her -- again. 

“I’m not sure I need it,” she said, with a smile, “but I wouldn’t mind some company.” 

He grinned back. “Sounds good to me.” 

He hadn’t seen Eileen in person since they’d first met the Nymphs, but they’d talked often, keeping each other up to date on their hunts and their lives in general. Plus, he was eager to get out of the bunker on his own. He wasn’t what had happened exactly, but things were different between Dean and Cas, and he wasn’t sure it was a good different.   
He’d been dealing with their silence on their feelings for years, and he hadn’t thought the tension could get any worse. But it had, and he suspected that they’d reached some half-resolution that caused it. He hoped that some time would allow them to come to the rest of the resolution. 

The drive was only a few hours, but he was eager to get on the road. He told Dean where he was going, reassuring him quickly that he and Eileen were more than capable of handling it when Dean offered to join. 

“Okay,” Dean said, giving him a suggestive look. Sam glared back as he caught the keys. 

“Be back in a few days,” Sam promised.

He enjoyed the drive, playing his own music (for once, not that Dean’s was bad, per se...) and taking in the scenery and enjoying the fact that he wasn’t in the usual desperate rush. It was a standard case, and the real point was spending time with Eileen. 

The plains around the highway passed by the window quickly. As he entered the city limits, he pulled off the road to check the address Eileen had given him. Sam pulled into the Gateway Motel just outside the city’s center, parking the car and looking for the room number Eileen had sent him. 

He knocked on the door, only belatedly realising how little good that would do. He looked around for a bell, something that might be connected to the lights, but apparently the motel was too cheap to bother being up to code or accessible. He settled for texting her that he’d arrived instead. 

After a moment, she opened the door for him. “Sam,” she greeted. “It’s good to see you.

“It’s good to see you, too,” he grinned. He followed her inside. 

She had the case details spread out on the unoccupied hotel bed. She followed his gaze. "Oh!" She said, seeming to notice it for the first time. "Do you want me to move them?" 

Sam hesitated. He'd shared rooms and beds before. He also couldn't deny that he had feelings for Eileen, that their relationship might be moving in that direction, and he hoped it would. But even though his heart stuttered at the thought, he wasn't sure they were there yet. While he might not have given sharing a bed a second thought were it with anyone else, this was Eileen. 

"What do you want to do?" He asked. 

"I'm okay with sharing if you are," she smiled. 

"Okay," he smiled back. "I'd hate to put you out."

"Oh, is that all it is?" Eileen teased. 

They sat on the edge of the same bed as she went over the case in more detail than they had over the video call, pointing out the articles she'd used, the photos from the scenes. She already had a plan to get to the bus depot, cleanse the area, but she said it'd be easier with two people. They planned to go in the morning. She'd been working the case, so she'd do the talking. 

In the meantime, they'd sleep.

Sam didn't want to push any boundaries or make assumptions, so he took "sharing a bed" the same way he would with anyone else, keeping himself respectfully to his side. He couldn't deny that it felt different with her, that he was comforted by her weight on the mattress nearby, listening to her breathing as he dropped off.


	2. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Sam's with Eileen, Dean and Cas go on a date.

Although Dean had been completely serious when he hinted at Sam's ulterior motives for working the case, he also knew he might have been projecting a bit. Since their almost-date during the last case, Dean and Cas hadn't exactly gotten a chance to continue their conversation. There was plenty of time in the bunker, but Dean had had enough trouble just talking to Cas, whose feelings--sometimes even the extent to which he had certain feelings--Dean rarely understood, about it. He'd spent most of his life assuming he was straight. Finding out through celestial happenstance (meeting the most amazing person, angel, whatever, that he knew who just so happened to be in the body of an attractive man) that he was more bisexual than he'd believed had been difficult for him. He wasn't ready to bring Sam into the discussion. 

Now, with Sam gone, he was hoping to use the opportunity to see if he and Cas could really make a relationship a reality. He walked down the hall, and knocked on Cas' door. 

"Yes, Dean?" The angel asked as he pulled the door open. 

"Sam's gone to help Eileen with a case," Dean said. 

"Does he need us?" 

"No, he said he can handle it."

"Alright." Cas started to close the door. 

"Uh, I was thinking--" Dean said quickly. "Maybe we could do something. Like we talked about."

Cas looked at him blankly for a moment. "Do you mean courting?" He said, understanding seeming to dawn. 

"Come on, man, no one calls it that any more," Dean muttered. "I'm talking about a date." He felt more sure of himself as he said the words. 

"What did you have in mind?" Cas asked. 

Dean's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't thought that far ahead. He wasn't sure he'd get that far. "Let me surprise you," Dean said, with a quick smile. He'd bought himself time to figure it out. 

Cas nodded. "Okay. When?"

"Tonight." Dean didn't know how long Sam would be on the hunt with Eileen, but from the way he'd described it, he doubted it'd be long. 

"Tonight," Cas agreed. As the angel closed the door with a small smile, Dean felt a sense of triumph. He also felt nervous.

He hadn't expected this to really happen. He'd worried their kiss would stay a one-time thing, never really spoken of again, except in joking reference.

It had happened with enough women before, although Dean could acknowledge that a part of that was his fault for never really expressing his interest in something beyond the physical. The flirting, attraction, that came to him so much more easily. Now, he had to figure out what to do for a date. It should have been easy. 

He knew Cas better than anyone, except perhaps Sam. Hell, they'd essentially been living together. But so many of the normal date ideas that came to mind involved food--coffee, lunch dates, dinner--and Cas didn't really eat. He didn't need to, and he'd said food didn't the same since he'd regained his grace. That eliminated a lot of potential options. And Dean didn't want to just do something like a movie. He and Cas had watched programs before together, TV shows, films. It was a common bunker activity, and much as Dean liked it, he wanted this date to be special. 

Wow. Chick flick thoughts. 

For all the years he and Cas had known each other, though, this was different. This marked something important for them, and if they were going to try a relationship, a real one, Dean wanted to do it right. For some reason, the first date idea that came to mind was bowling. 

It was a fun activity, relatively easy to pick up and social. Dean wasn't sure Cas's feelings on it, but the angel seemed to be interested in the human activities he'd been introduced to so far. Dean hadn't been bowling in a long time, but it seemed normal, the sort of activity they could have dumb fun with. 

While Dean had been searching for an idea, time had moved to quickly, minutes racing by while he willed them to stop. Now that he had a plan for their date, it moved too slowly. They hadn't set an exact time, but he didn't figure 4:30 in the afternoon counted as "tonight." 

Despite the wait, when the time did come, Dean didn't feel "ready." He felt nervous, and not the adrenaline sort of nervousness of a case. It was the stomach fluttering nervousness of anticipation. He was excited. He grinned at Castiel, who looked as he always did, ruffled dark brown hair, vaguely over-dressed. "Ready?"

He nodded. "Where are we going?"

"Bowling," he said. Cas looked perplexed. "You ever been?"

"No. I've never been bowling."

Dean nodded. "I think you'll like it. Come on."

They had to take Cas' car since Sam had the Impala, and despite Dean's teasing about his poor taste in vehicles, the angel wasn't a bad driver. The bowling alley was colourful and brightly lit, but not too crowded. They went through the ordeal of getting bowling shoes, a part of the process that never went smoothly. They both enjoyed the game itself, laughing easily with each other over their fumbles, sharing successes as the pins toppled over, even though they were technically playing against each other. Like all friendly competitions, it was the most fun when they were both terrible. 

"Ooh," Dean hissed as he landed another ball right in the gutter. 

"You know you can put the rails up," the waiter suggested jovially, dropping off the fries Dean had ordered. 

"He likes a challenge," Cas said, smiling. 

"Damn right," Dean grinned back. 

The waiter shrugged lightly and left them to their game, Cas hefting the weight of the bowling ball in his hand before chucking it down the wooden lane. Two of the end pins clattered, and Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, you hit something!" He crowed. 

They spent the evening enjoying each other's company and racking up ridiculous scores, both decent and so so awful. It was perfect. There was just one thing Dean wanted to do. But he wasn't sure of himself in so public a place, not like this. He'd never kissed a man in public, aside from when he first tried to kiss Cas. He and Sam had been all over the country. He knew the sort of reactions some people would have. He'd internalized it because he was the one who'd always been able to fit in, be popular, no matter how he felt about the people around him. 

He'd gotten older, though. He didn't care so much for what people thought, and right then, he wanted to kiss Castiel. He remembered Cas pulling away last time, telling him he wanted a relationship first.

"This was fun," Cas admitted, breaking the silence as they walked comfortably back to the car. 

"Good," Dean said. "Cus' I'd be interested in doing more things like it."

"Like ... bowling?"

"Like," Dean said, "'courting,'" putting air quotes around the word. "But bowling, too, if you want."

Cas looked up at him. "I'd like that." And before Dean had time to figure out if the angel had meant the courting, bowling, or both, Cas had leaned up and kissed him.

It was short--over before Dean had the chance to kiss back--but it left him grinning, face hot. The colour and smile on Cas' face told Dean he felt the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be short -- some of Cas' perspective on the date. Chapter 4 begins the case plot. 
> 
> Also, I know Supernatural has ended now. No, I didn't love the ending. I'm going to keep this series going as planned (still vaguely nestled between S12 and S13 but not really.) If I get that far/get really annoyed, I may do a fix-it of the ending within the canon the Nymphverse. We'll see. My main priority is the story line I've been setting up between the Winchesters, Nymphs, and Angels, though.


	3. First Date (Cas' POV)

Cas hadn't expected Dean to ask him out on an actual, human date, despite their previous conversation. He'd been in denial of the possibility that the man could even like him back, the way he did. 

And if he was being honest, "bowling," had been an odd concept at first. One of those human games that didn't quite make sense to him in purpose. He liked being with Dean, though, and despite how silly he'd felt at first, trying to roll something like a cannonball at wooden pins, he'd found himself smiling with Dean at both their mistakes and victories. He'd never thought minor embarrassment could be so enjoyable. 

He liked being with the human while he did "normal" things, liked seeing into his world. He liked being a part of it. 

And, he'd kissed him. He, Castiel, had kissed Dean Winchester. He'd been thinking about it since last time, and if he was being honest with himself, long before that, but he wasn't sure what exactly had prompted him to act. It had just felt right, the cool night air on their faces after the excitement of the bowling alley, Cas' pulse in his ears as he looked at Dean before closing the distance between them, placing his mouth against the other mans. 

After, Dean had said only "You kissed me," is a slightly surprised voice, but his smile said more than enough. Perhaps this thing between them wasn't just mutual, but a real possibility, and in Cas' opinion, a decent idea. 

He didn't know if Dean had talked to Sam yet. He knew he hadn't, and he wasn't sure who Sam would rather hear it from. It wasn't as though either brother was typically secretive about their relationships. Sam's feelings for Eileen, the deaf hunter he'd met while tracking a banshee, for example, were as clear as day, even to Cas, who knew he was still sometimes oblivious to the finer points of human interactions. 

He'd had no idea if Dean liked him back until the hunter had tried to kiss him, though he had it on the good authority of "chick flicks," that everyone was more oblivious to people's feelings towards them than towards others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay! Plot starts next chapter. Also, for those still here from the first one (which is a miracle, considering how slow I post), in case you couldn't tell, I have decided I like Saileen romantically, so that's the direction I'll be going with that currently.


	4. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the plot start boizz. Some discussion about the cult. No interactions with them in this chapter.

Sam was almost done with his part of the bus line when he felt his phone vibrate. It was Aneia--the first time she'd ever reached out to him first. She'd sent, _Got a case. Not our usual thing. Call me if you've got time._ Well, that was cryptic. She was normally pretty detailed and upfront about situations--at least now that she trusted them--so it must be pretty complicated if she thought it would be better just to call.  
He finished up as quickly as he could, showing the text to Eileen after they were done. "I think this means I have to get back," he said.

She nodded. "Could be bad," she said. "Do you want a hand?" 

"That's okay. I know you were looking into another case in Nevada after this." 

"Yeah. There are a couple deaths I wanted to look into. If you do need anything..."

"I know. I can text you. Thank you. And if you need a hand, feel free to do  
the same."

"Good luck."

He took the drive back to the bunker more quickly than he normally would. He hadn't called Aneia yet; he wanted to talk to Dean and Cas, have them on the call with him.

"Hey, man," Sam heard Dean say as he opened the door. "How'd it go with Eileen?" 

"Good," Sam said quickly. "Where's Cas?"

Dean stood up, turning his attention from his computer at the table. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. Aneia texted me, wants our help for something."

"Did she say what?"

"She said to call her. I think we should all be there, just in case."

"Okay," Dean said. "I'll get Cas."

They gathered at the table while Sam dialed the number and put the phone on  
speaker in the center of the table. "Hey, Aneia. I saw your text. What's going on?" 

"Thanks for calling. It's a bit complicated."

"Yeah, I guessed as much. You said it's not your usual thing?"

"We were in town, doing our usual gig, investigating some empathy stuff that we thought might be Nymphs. But there aren't any of us here. It's a human, and they're leading some kind of cult."

Startled, Sam looked over at Dean and Cas, both of whom seemed as surprised as he felt.

"A cult?" Dean asked. 

"Yeah. It's not just a few people getting tricked into doing things this time. It's bad."

"Okay," Sam said. "When you said empathy stuff, what got you looking into this?"

"It's going to sound stupid, but, people changing their lifestyle, claiming to have had a revelation."

"And that sounded like a Nymph before it sounded like a cult to you?" Dean asked. Sam shot him a look. 

"Okay, fair point, but we know some Nymphs who do that, going into like, lifestyle coaching or things like. Trying to use the powers we have for good. Everyone's got a different interpretation of what that means."

"So not everyone takes your vow of silence?" Castiel asked. "How do they know they're not hurting people?"

There was a moment of silence on the line. "Some people... are less careful, but some people do just find other ways to exist safely. Anyways, my point is, we thought, maybe this was that, but it's definitely not. Like I said, there are no other Nymphs here, and the lifestyle changes aren't just harmless things. They're big. People are talking about whoever is doing this as a nature god."

"Uh, okay," Sam said. "This sounds a little out of our league, too, but we can try. Is there anything supernatural about the case?"

"I'm not sure. Kye thinks--Oh, here." Sam heard muffled sounds as Aneia passed the phone. 

"I've been listening to some of the rhetoric. I could be wrong, but some of it sounds a little too close to our reality. Not the usual pop culture pseudo-stuff." They heard him hand the phone back to Aneia. 

"It's okay if it's not your kind of thing, either," she said, a little more subdued than normal. 

Sam glanced again at Dean and Cas. They nodded. "No, it's okay. We'll be there. Just text me the address. We'll meet you."

"Thank you." She ended the call, and Sam's phone buzzed a minute later with an address in Arkansas. 

"This is a first," Dean said. "She hasn't asked for our help since Seattle."

"I know," Sam said. "I was worried it'd be something pretty dangerous, honestly. It sounds more like she doesn't know if they can handle a completely human case without putting people at risk."

"I get that. They're pretty cautious."

"Yeah, but do you ever wonder about that? Like, when she said not all Nymphs do it that way."

"I hadn't heard of any Nymphs choosing silence before we met them," Cas said. "But it's clear that Heaven hasn't exactly been forthcoming with the truth about them. What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not sure. It was just a thought." Sam shook his head to clear it. "We should get packed. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us."

Aside from the usuals, Sam wasn't sure what to bring. They weren't well-versed in cults. The closest thing they'd had to deal with was the string of minor gods they had to fight because people kept sacrificing each other to them. He vaguely knew that cults worked based on brainwashing, and they did have some experience with that, but he had a feeling that knowledge would only be semi-transferable to cults. Most of what he knew about them came from the People's Temple/Jonestown case and the Waco siege in Texas. If these people were that far into it, he wasn't sure how much help he, Dean, and Cas could be or what they could do that the Nymphs couldn't, aside from the perks they had being adults.

He was still trying to figure out if they had any literature from the bunker they might need when there was a knock. "You ready?" Dean asked. 

"Yeah," Sam said. "I think so."

With Dean driving as usual, Sam alternated between trying to read up on the cult  
cases he knew of and dozing off. Much like supernatural creatures and issues, cults were surrounded in mythos and legend. They were acknowledged as real by the general public, but the actual research available was limited. It was a newer field, relatively speaking, and the folk tales and superstitions outnumbered the facts.

"Anything useful?" Dean asked. 

Sam shook his head slowly. "I don't know. It'll depend on what we come up against. Right now, I'm just trying to learn what I can."

Dean nodded, eyes on the road. Sam glanced up at the rearview mirror to see Cas watching them. He knew something was (finally) going on between them. He was just waiting for them to feel comfortable telling him. 

It was dark by the time they pulled up to the address they'd gotten. It looked like an abandoned house. Kye was standing out on the porch, waiting for them in the car's headlights. He motioned them inside. 

The inside of the house looked barren and dusty but not as dirty as some of the abandoned places he and Dean had visited on cases. Not that they'd ever lived in any of them. Aneia had set up in the center of the room, leafing through scattered papers on the floor. 

"Squatting?" Dean asked, amused. 

She looked up, giving them a smile and a wave. Kye wandered back to the documents and sat down while Aneia stood to greet them. 

_Hey._ She wrote. _Thank you so much for coming._

"Of course," Sam said. "Though I'm still not sure what you think we can do  
to help."

 _If nothing else, speak,_ Aneia wrote, and Sam could practically hear the wry tone. _We also suspect there maybe some magic involved. Not our kind, but like Kye mentioned on the phone, some of their stuff is a little too accurate to be pure coincidence, and cults don't normally spring up out of nowhere. The sort of programming they do takes time. And that's if the leaders have a set belief system formed out at the start. Otherwise, we'd expect some more starts and stops as they find their legs, so to speak._

"How do you know?" Dean asked. 

Kye snorted sofly. _A's a cult fanatic. Loves this stuff._

Aneia short him a glare. _By which he means I love studying them, not that I'm in one._

"Oh, like Sammy's thing for serial killers?"

It was Sam's turn to glare at his brother. 

Aneia gave him a sympathetic look before resuming. _Let's just say, being what I am, I find it prudent to learn about all forms of influence._

"Okay," Dean said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "So what have you got?"

Aneia led them through the pamphlets and tracts they'd collected from the meetings they'd gone to. _We gathered the information we could by going to meetings. In a way, we're lucky the cult is the size it is. We could slip in and out with less attention. Would have been higher risk for being noticed by the leaders otherwise, having to deal with love-bombing._

"Love-bombing?"

 _I mean, we could, but the communication thing is a hell of a nuisance._

"I meant," Sam said. "What is lovebombing?"

Kye smiled smugly at Aneia and turned his notebook around, the answer already on it. _Love-bombing -- a cult tactic of praise and welcome used to get new individuals into the group._

"That just sounds like every recruiter for anything," Dean said. 

Aneia nodded. _Cults are often really good at it. And the love part is conditional. If they think your conversion is unattainable, their attitude changes fast._

"Okay. So you're saying this cult is large enough that two new faces didn't get a ton of attention?"

The Nymphs both nodded. 

"How long have they been going?"

_From what we could learn, just three months._

Sam felt his mouth go dry. Even if "enough people not to notice two new faces" only meant, say, 30-40 people, at a conservative estimate, that was a lot for a new group in so short a time. "It's local?" He asked. 

Aneia nodded. _No suggestion that the group started somewhere else and then relocated._

Sam couldn't technically be sure, but that didn't feel like normal behaviour for a new cult. If the Nymphs felt it was too fast to be normal, he understood. His instincts were telling him the same thing. 

"Okay," Dean said. "I don't know much about these things, but if you're right, I'm glad we came."

_I am, too. Thank you. I know it was a bit of an ask._

"No worse than fighting an angel," Dean joked. 

Aneia's face scrunched briefly. _Sorry,_ She wrote. 

Dean checked Sam's face, now looking a little concerned. "No worries," he said. "It was a good thing."

Sam added it to the list of things he wanted to talk to them about. They planned to head to the next meeting tomorrow. It was too late to talk to anyone from the group that night. In the meantime, he, Dean, and Cas checked into a local motel to sleep. Sleeping in the abandoned house didn't sound appealing.


	5. Ceres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew goes to a cult meeting.

Dean woke feeling less than rested, but ready to get to work. This case didn't sound like their normal thing, and he wanted to get his own eyes on the situation, see what he could make of it. 

According to pamphlets the Nymphs had shown them, the group held daily prayer meetings, led by a woman named Ceres, claiming to be the mortal host of the nature goddess herself, giving messages to individuals on how to rectify their relationships with the Earth and their community. Sam had said many cults took advantage of a pre-established religion or belief system to draw in members more easily. Although some of the beliefs this group seemed to promote in their tracts drew on more common New Age ideas, it didn't seem to have that same advantage. It wouldn't be like starting a new Christian church with subtly different or gradually escalating extreme beliefs. 

"So someone is trying to radicalise hippies," Dean summed up. 

"Yeah," Sam nodded, overlooking the quip without so much as a look. That was unusual; Dean kept his eyes on his brother, noting the thoughtful look on his face. 

"There's something weird about the name Ceres, though."

"Why?"

"Well, it's the Roman name for the goddess Demeter," Sam began. 

"Right, that grain goddess."

"Exactly."

"You think it's weird that she's using the Roman name? Because it's less common?"

Sam shook his head. "Maybe, but Demeter or Ceres was an agriculture goddess, not a general nature goddess. It just doesn't seem to match up with what the group is trying to teach."

Dean snorted. "Is that really strange? How many people don't really know the beliefs they're borrowing when they start stuff like this?"

"True," Sam acknowledged. "I was just thinking, for us, there's usually two options here, right? Either it is the goddess, or it's someone impersonating her."

"Right," Dean nodded. "So you're thinking this suggests it's the second one?"

"Yeah. And if I'm right, we might have to worry about what would happen if the real Ceres is still out there and took offense."

"Great. So we have to keep an eye out for an angry goddess, too."

"Maybe," Sam agreed. 

They drove to the spot of the prayer meeting. "What's our cover story?" Sam asked. 

"We don't exactly look like the sort of people who'd belong at a meeting like this." 

"I don't know," Dean grinned. "You could fit if you tried."

"Maybe more than you," Cas chimed in, "but the flannel still radiates hunter."

Sam choked back a laugh. "We could pretend to be locals, farmers. That would make sense with an agriculture goddess," he said, trying to sound serious again. 

"And Cas here in formal attire?" Dean asked. 

"Good point."

"What if we use the truth?" Cas suggested. 

"That we're hunters?" 

He shook his head. "That the Nymphs asked us here. They've already looked into the group, so they must fit in. If they're okay with it, we could be there, as their guardians."

"Making sure the kids aren't getting into anything too dangerous," Dean finished for him. "We could play off any confusion pretty easily that way and have a legitimate reason to be interested--more than a normal new member might be even."

"That's a good idea," Sam agreed. "I'll text them, make sure they're on board."  
Sam's phone pinged a minute later and he make a short sound. He didn't respond at first, only showing Dean his phone after he'd pulled the Impala to a stop in the parking lot. He'd typed an explanation of Cas' idea into his conversation with Aneia. 

In response, he'd just received _Okay. --Kye._

The sound Dean made in reaction mirrored the one Sam had made. 

He passed the phone to Cas. "Let's hope that's a yes," the angel said, sounding slightly baffled at the vague response. 

The three waited until the Nymphs' beaten-up car pulled up next to them. Aneia was at the wheel. She waved to them as she and Kye hopped out of the car and made their way over. She pointed her thumb towards the building in an unmistakable _Let's go gesture._

Sam putting his hand out, pausing her movement. "Wait. You've been here before, do you think people will recognise you?"

She shrugged. 

"Okay. I just want to be on the same page. We're your guardians?"

Kye nodded. 

"All three of us?"

He shrugged. 

Sam's phone buzzed. _Why not?_ Aneia had sent. "That will raise some  
questions. We should be prepared to answer."

"What's there to say?" Dean said. "Brothers," he gestured between them. "Cas," he said, pointing at the angel. 

Cas cleared his throat. "I could be wrong, but I believe that's the part Sam thinks people might question."

Dean felt annoyed. It normally wouldn't be a big question, but right now, he didn't want to think about it. "Does it really matter? They can assume what they want," he said gruffly. 

Sam and Cas both seemed taken aback by his frustration. He swallowed the small remorse he felt and pretended he didn't notice. This was not the time to sort through his emotions. They had a case to attend to, a meeting to attend and get information from. Dean started heading to the building, leaving Sam to sigh and follow behind him.

The group was in a strip mall church looking place. It wasn't the biggest or richest of them that he and Sam had seen on the job, but it was shockingly well established if the Nymphs' three month timeline was right. 

"This place is nice," Dean said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam nod in agreement. The place was also bustling. Aneia and Kye recommended avoiding arriving too early so they could blend in more easily, so the lobby was relatively full already. The crowd was all blended together, with most of the people there young, pretty, and nicely dressed in bright colours. Aneia and Kye also happened to be the only brown people in the room. He knew it was Arkansas, but it still surprised him. This seemed like the sort of group that would be popular with all sorts of young people, locals, college students, and more. 

Some of the people waved to the Nymphs, smiling in welcome. They waved back, but no one approached them specifically. They headed into a beautiful worship room set in tones of greens and browns with bright splashes of rainbow colours streaming from the glass windows. There were no symbols or traditional altars or pews. Instead, there were plain wooden benches and plants decorating the sanctuary area. Towards the front, instead of benches, there were reed mats. 

As the crowd filed in, Dean noticed that people seemed to already know where they were going, naturally gravitating towards either the benches or the mats, no fuss over seats. Aneia and Kye stayed toward the back, standing rather than taking a seat at any of the benches. Dean had never been one for religion. All he knew about the supernatural only reinforced that. There were other powers out there, but that didn't make them higher. None of the gods he'd met were ones he'd want to worship.   
He felt out of place standing among all these enraptured, dutiful individuals. He knew it was for show, but Aneia and even Kye seemed perfectly taken in, and Sam was being respectful, keeping his face neutral while the prayer leader spoke about how far humanity had strayed from its original way. Cas was the only other person who seemed visibly uncomfortable with the proceedings, looking around him and occasionally shifting his stance. 

The prayer was the sort of long self-righteous thing he hated from churches and temples. Like they had all the answers. No matter who you were or how you lived, you were never doing it right. He knew the feeling, and there was nothing good about it. 

Of course, no one would listen if it was just shame. There was also plenty of praise for those who followed the new teachings, how much better they were than the people who ate certain foods, dressed certain ways, etc, etc. Dean tried not to focus on the speech; the others knew more about cults than he did, and most religious ceremonies made him vaguely uncomfortable anyways. He turned his attention to the people. People were the same everywhere, and he might be less tactful than Sam sometimes, but he could read them when he wanted. 

He'd noticed before that everyone seemed to have unspoken assigned seats; watching them respond to the prayer, he began to notice a pattern. It looked like the closer to the front someone was, the more engaged -- the "holier," ones, perhaps, or the ones who'd been in the group longest. Internally, he imagined rolling his eyes. Of course. Everything was for show, for some kind of status. About half-an-hour later and some meditative pauses and chants later, the thing was over. A few people stood to leave, and Dean stepped aside to let them pass, but most people turned to talk to each other or to try to approach the woman at the front who'd been speaking. 

He turned his attention to the Nymphs, asking softly, "What now?"

Aneia gestured to the leader, whose eyes were on them. She wrote, _The more meetings we attend, the more she starts to notice us. This time we came with other people. She's a bit choosy about who she talks to, leaving that role for other people at first, but we think this has gotten her attention._ She held the notebook towards them, which Dean noticed meant that there was no chance anyone towards the front of the room could read it.

"I know you mentioned the group was big, but how come no one’s tried to talk to you guys yet?" Sam asked, keeping his voice low.

_That, we think, is partly because they've noticed we don't really talk._ Kye wrote. 

"Fair enough. You want us to talk for you?" Sam asked. 

Aneia looked over at Dean and Cas. _If that's okay with all of you._

They all nodded, and Kye nodded back briskly. He started moving to the front of the room, and Aneia followed with a small smile to the Winchesters. The crowd at the front of the room had thinned some, and the woman looked like she was waiting for them to approach her. 

Aneia and Kye made the first move, playing the role of awestruck congregants with seeming ease. To Dean, who was used to Aneia's friendly but stubborn personality, and Kye's ... standoffish one, to put it politely, the eager admiration seemed out of place. 

The woman extended her hand gracefully, gesturing for them to join her. "Welcome," she said. "to our humble Temple of Ceres." 

The Nymphs smiled back, and Sam nodded politely. 

"I've been seeing you two around," she said. "I thought you would come to see me. Who have you brought?"

"Hi, I'm Sam, and this is my brother, Dean, and our friend, Cas. We're their guardians. They've both just been so interested in this, we thought we should see it for ourselves."

"Well, I'm certainly glad you stopped by," she said. She looked pointedly at Aneia and Kye. "And what are your names?"

"Aneia and Kye," Sam answered for them. "And you are?"

The woman looked back up at Sam, one eyebrow arched, but simply said, "I am the priestess of this temple -- the Priestess of Ceres. You maybe call me by her name because that is the identity that matters."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am--" 

"What got you interested in our church?" She cut Sam off, once again focusing her attention solely on the Nymphs. Apparently, their cover story wasn't that important to her. 

This time, Sam hesitated, like he didn't know what to say. Aneia took over, her hands moving slowly and deliberately. She was choosing to sign instead of write. 

"We moved here," Sam repeated. "and heard about you. We were part of a church before, but it never seemed," he paused. "Say again?" He asked her. "It never seemed to fit."

The priestess was still watching Aneia, now in complete fascination, taking in the words Sam spoke without paying him any mind. 

"This church is so different. It's about the world, here."

She nodded. "We know the reality of divinity here," she said. "I'm so happy you found us. We can always use new members with a real appreciation for the value of Terra. Ceres teaches us how to live in harmony with her -- be nature's leaders and champions rather than her destroyers." She looked back at the Winchesters with something like pity. "A lesson most in this world have not had the opportunity to receive." 

Aneia and Kye both nodded like that was a completely normal thing to say. Dean had heard of environmental movements, but this was a whole nother level.

"I see," Sam said. "So when you say Ceres and Terra, are those the Roman Goddesses?"

It seemed like a reasonable question to Dean, but the woman's eyes flashed momentarily, like the question surprised or annoyed her, before she settled her face back to a normal calm. "The Romans," she said kindly. "Did not understand their true importance, but yes."

"They didn't understand their true importance?" Dean repeated. 

"They valued war so far above the very world they lived in." 

Sam had a look on his face like that revealed something to him, but he said   
nothing at first. 

"So, what is this right way to live?" Castiel asked. "What do your members do?" 

"All sorts of things. We know that all of nature is made good and that we are to understand how to use these resources. We are responsible for ensuring that all people live healthy, kind lives."

Dean wasn't sure about cult-y, but that definitely sounded like an overreach. It also sounded like she was avoiding specifics, but some of the harsher parts of the prayer had suggested some pretty hard rules about clothing, food, housing, you name it. Dean teased Sam sometimes for his "healthy" diet choices, but truthfully, he'd never try to control what people ate -- as long as it wasn't people. 

"May we have a moment?" Sam asked with a smile. 

"Of course," the woman said. 

Sam led their group a few steps away where they could have a quieter conversation. "There's still too many people here," he said. "I don't think we're going to get anywhere without confronting her directly, but if things go bad, I don't want to put these people in danger."

Dean nodded in agreement. "How do you plan to confront her? We don't exactly have anything concrete we can use." 

"I know," Sam said. "But I think we're going to have to take a chance. I think Kye is right. There's magic here. If we bluff,"

"We might be able to get her to tell us what kind," Dean finished for him, nodding in understanding. 

"So how do you want to get her alone?" 

Dean tried to ignore Cas' accidental suggestiveness as he considered the question. 

"Does she have an office?" He asked Aneia and Kye. They both nodded.

"You thinking of trying to schedule a meeting with her?" Sam asked, coming to the   
exact conclusion Dean had been leading towards. 

"Yeah," he said. 

"That could work," his brother agreed. "Let's try it." 

He turned back to the priestess. "We don't want to take up too much of your time, but Aneia and Kye are really interested in what you do here, and we'd like to learn a little more before we're sure it's a good religion for our children. Would it be possible to schedule a meeting or something?"

It felt like a long time to Dean as the priestess studied them, but eventually she said, "Of course. We do consultations. When were you thinking?"

Before any of them could answer, Aneia flapped her hand quickly and said something for Sam to see. 

"Uh, I guess as soon as possible," he said. 

Aneia gave the priestess a brilliant, sheepish smile. It would be hard to have any doubts about her sincerity in the face of that. 

"I can do this afternoon," the priestess said. "Does that work for you all?"

Sam glanced back at Dean and Cas like he was checking with them -- though they all knew they'd be there at whatever time they needed to -- and Dean nodded for show. 

"That'd be perfect," Sam said. 

Dean felt himself relax as they left the building. "I hate churches," he muttered, half to himself and half as an apology for the mood he was sure the others would pick up sooner or later. "You thinking witch?" He asked, changing the subject abruptly.

"Maybe," Sam said. "Since it's not a Nymph or a demon- or angel-made psychic, and her interpretation of Roman mythology doesn’t seem to fit, that seems like the most likely option." 

"What spells would they use?" Cas asked. 

"I'm not sure," Sam said, "but we know there are spells to make people believe you, make them fall in love, make them do what you want. I'm sure there's something. I'll hit the books while we've got some time."

_You want any help?_ Aneia asked, writing again. 

"Sure."

“So,” Dean asked as everyone piled into the Impala and he started the car, “What about her take on the Roman god thing got your attention?”

“The agriculture thing almost started to make sense as she was talking about stewardship of natural resources, but that almost seemed unintentional, like she thought that was the part people would question. And then when she talked about Rome, and the only thing about Rome she brought up was war, that didn’t seem right to me, like she hated Rome.”

“So you think she’s not actually working for the goddess?” Dean clarified. “But is she hates Rome so much and the actual deity isn’t involved, why not just use the Greek name? 

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted uneasily. 

“Okay. I don’t want to walk in there unprepared. You guys look into the witch angle, and Cas and I will see what we can find about Ceres.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sam agreed. 

Dean heard Aneia tap the back of Sam’s seat lightly. She turned her notebook to him. Dean forced his eyes back to the road before his brain could try to start reading. “What’s she say?” He asked Sam. 

“‘Are we going to research at the house or the motel?”’ “Does that abandoned house have internet?” He asked after. “‘No,’” he read. “So motel’s probably best. Anything you need to pick up from the house first?” ‘“Yes.”’

“Okay,” Dean said, course-correcting and heading to the address from last night. “Why are you squatting in an abandoned house?” Dean asked. He couldn’t help his eldest-sibling instincts kicking in. He and Kye might not trust each other yet, but the Nymphs were still children -- of a sort. 

“‘It’s easy, free, and no questions-asked. Usually.’” Sam read off. 

Dean took that as his cue to stop pressing. He understood pushing back against other people getting in your business. He’d just have to keep an eye out for them himself, whether they wanted him to or not. He pulled into the drive of the abandoned house, and watched as the two centuries old children slipped into the house. 

“You’re worried about them?” Sam asked, seeming to read Dean’s train of thought. He snorted at the glare Dean shot his way. “Come on, man, you’re not exactly subtle. You all but adopt every kid we run into on cases.” Dean’s glare didn’t waver, and Sam eventually held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. I’m not judging. I do the same.”

Dean shrugged, looking back out the car’s window. “They’re living in an abandoned house, tracking a cult,” was all he said. It was all he had to say. He knew Sam and Cas would understand what he wasn’t saying. The job took its toll on all of them, and it was always worse with kids involved. 

The door to the Impala opened again and the Nymphs hopped in. Aneia gave him a thumbs up, and Dean headed back to the motel he, Sam and Cas had checked into the night before. They divided out into their groups and started researching their respective topics. Gods were complicated. Each one seemed to have their own rules and weaknesses. Add to that the whole Greek/Roman issue, and Dean knew he had a lot of lore to sift through before their scheduled meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually managed to keep a decent upload schedule so far, but fair warning -- that is about to dissolve. We're reaching the part of the fic I haven't finished, and my classes are about to make the transition from completely remote to hybrid, so that may funk things up. Soz


	6. Consideration and Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters and Nymphs finish their research and confront the priestess. 
> 
> (Since this focuses mostly on the supernatural side now, it's less heavy on the cult stuff than last chapter. I'm trying not to get too in-depth with that.)

Sam found a number of spells that could influence others. A number seemed too overt for what was happening, like the sorts of love spells he and Dean had encountered. Those created a very very visible sense of devotion, attraction and romantic interest. Hell, if nothing else, that many people chasing the same person under a spell of that caliber would tear each other apart in a rage fueled by jealousy. A few of the spells would have the sort of effects they were seeing, and if the temple or office were hex-bagged, he, Dean, and Cas could fall under that influence, too. They could wind up believing and trusting the witch without reason. That could be an issue. They couldn’t search for hex bags before going in. He had an idea, but he wasn’t sure any of the others would like it. In fact, he was pretty sure they’d hate it. 

He looked around the room. Aneia and Kye were still researching. They had each taken spell books and grimoires and started flipping through them for potential relevant spells, sliding any findings over to Sam wordlessly. Dean was glaring at a lire webpage and Cas had his attention in a book. 

Sam cleared his throat, and waited until they all looked up, attention on him, before he started speaking. He explained the concerns he had about the possibility of them being controlled. 

Dean looked worried as he realised where Sam was going, but Sam didn’t think he’d guessed what Sam’s proposed solution would be. Otherwise, he’d already be protesting. 

“We can’t afford to get caught up in her spell,” Sam said. “But you--” he gestured to the Nymphs, “can counter it, right?” All eyes were on him, and none of them seemed to approve. As Dean and Cas both began speaking, Aneia and Kye dropped their gazes and started writing quickly. 

_You want us to influence you, so you don’t get influenced by the witch._

“Your solution to being mind controlled is to just, be mind controlled?” Dean scoffed.

Only Cas, originally the most hesitant to even be around the Nymphs, seemed to agree. “It would keep you safe,” he countered. 

_And then what? You rip us apart?_ Kye wrote, face completely empty, the only sign of his emotions the tell-tale tremble in his fingertips as he held the notepad. 

Sam felt the words puncture something inside him, like all the progress he thought they’d made springing a leak and slipping away. And when he looked to Aneia for assistance, he realised her face was guarded, too, waiting for his reaction. Well, shit. He’d anticipated push back for totally different reasons. 

“What?” Dean growled into the tense silence that had formed. 

Aneia shifted, subtly positioning herself in front of Kye. Sam and Cas exchanged a look--wrong move. Sam could see where this was going -- Dean was pissed at the assumption, and that anger could snap the already frayed threads of trust. 

He was the best person to interject. “Why would we do that?” He asked. He had half an idea, but he did want to jump into any assumptions, and giving Kye the room to explain it himself might help both him and Dean calm down and understand each other better. Maybe. 

The atmosphere was tense, but Dean at least gave Kye the time to write his answer without talking over him. It would be easy to use their communication difference against them in an argument without really even realizing it, so Dean must have been making a conscious effort to, well, to listen to him. 

_You’ve made it perfectly clear how you feel about our powers. We do our best to respect that._

“You think we’d hurt you?” Dean said.

Kye gave him a look that said the exact same thing as his next words; _Wouldn’t you?_

“We’re not trying to trip you up, here. This isn’t a trick question,” Sam said softly. “We’ll defend ourselves if we’re under attack, but we’re talking about working together here.”

_We don’t want to do anything you don’t want,_ Aneia said.

“I know,” Sam said. “That’s why we’re talking about this.” He glanced at Dean, who appeared to have calmed down some. “Right?” 

“Right,” Dean agreed grudgingly. “Though my vote’s still no.”

Aneia nodded, placating. 

“I think we should consider it,” Castiel said. “It could work.”

“We don’t have to do anything preemptive. It might not even be necessary,” Sam said. “But if we start acting ‘under the magical influence,’ you might be our best bet,” he told the Nymphs. 

They both looked to Dean, waiting for his reaction. “Only if the witch whammies us,” he said roughly. 

Aneia nodded, and she and Kye exchanged a look like they were debating. 

“Will you do it?” Sam asked. 

They both turn their notebooks around at the same time, opposite messages displayed on them. 

_Okay,_ Aneia had written. _If it comes to it._

_I can’t. I’m sorry._ Kye said. 

“We won’t hurt you,” Sam tried, but Kye just underlined _I can’t._ with a swift, harsh movement, and Aneia shook her head warning him off pressing the issue. He let it go. They needed to leave soon if they were going to make their appointment anyways. 

Sam kept an eye out for Kye as they readied themselves to go, trying to figure out what was going on without attracting the Nymph’s attention. The indolent, irritable attitude he was used to from the kid had become constrained. There was nothing relaxed about him now -- his movements were precise, controlled, and tense. Sam couldn’t tell if he was angry or scared, but everything about it reminded him painfully of their first encounter. 

Aneia herself seemed nervous, too, a little of the frantic energy he hadn’t seen since Seattle returning to her as she wordlessly kept her hands moving slightly and sporadically throughout the entire ride to the temple. As they disembarked from the Impala, she seemed a little more in control, working to slip into character for the meeting. Kye had done the same, softening or hiding some of the anger that had punctuated his earlier movements. 

“Ready?” Sam asked, trying to break some of the tension. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Dean said. 

The temple was empty except for Ceres, who greeted them in the lobby before leading them back to her office. If she noticed the divide between them, she didn’t say anything. “So,” she said, settling herself behind the desk with a smile, “what did you want to know about us?”

Might as well abandon the charade now. “Are you a witch?” Sam asked. 

The priestess’ smile faltered. “What?” 

“Are. you. a. witch.” Dean repeated. “How are you swaying these people? How are you controlling them?”

“Controlling? I don’t know what you mean,” she said. She looked to Aneia and Kye as if she expected them to defend her. They stay silent, hands still. 

“Are you accusing me of running a cult?” The priestess asked, and something in her mock-innocent tone changed, but Sam couldn’t pinpoint what. She smiled sympathetically. “We do get people implying that a lot, but just because we are not an Abrahamic faith doesn’t make us a cult.” 

Sam felt confusion setting in. That wasn’t what they’d been talking about, was it? Well, they were talking about cults, but they were talking about the supernatural…

“Sam, Dean, Castiel--” a voice broke through the haze. “You know why you’re here. Trust yourselves.” The words were simply, but there was weight behind them. Of course he knew why he was here. He was here because the priestess was suspected of using witchcraft to influence her congregation. 

He blinked, the fog gone, and shot a grateful look at the worried Aneia. She’d been watching for his reaction to her words, and he wanted her to know it had worked. The priestess was looking at her, too, a strange look on her face. 

“You speak,” she said. “And you’re one of them.” She sounded almost breathless.

Both Aneia and Kye looked at her sharply, tension returning.

“Yes,” Ceres continued. “I’ve met one like you before. The divine! She showed me the way, gave me the tools to start this church. I never thought I’d see one again.” Her gaze darkened and the semi-reverent awe morphed to anger. “She warned me about you -- about the ones who’d lost their way, become subservient to Hunters.” She spat out the last word. 

Sam looked at Dean. Definitely a witch, probably had been before she’d gotten the inspiration from a Nymph to turn her powers into a cult. Before he realised what was happening, Dean flew back out of the chair. Shit. 

Sam pulled his gun as he noticed the Nymphs scramble to stand. “Let him go, Ceres,” he said. She met his eyes, staring down the gun, without flinching. He heard Dean start to choke behind him, saw Aneia move to his side. He knew there was nothing she could do, no physical way to stop the spell without stopping the witch. 

“Let him go, or I’ll have to shoot,” Sam repeated. 

She raised her hand, power surrounding Sam, and said, “No.” He fired as he was slammed backwards, but the movement threw his aim. The witch dropped, dead. Sam groaned as he pulled himself back to his feet, and moved to check on Dean, who was catching his breath. Cas helped Dean up while Kye knelt by the witch, checking her pulse. He stood and turned his hands over -- _dead._ The bullet had gone through her head. Sam had expected as much when he felt himself fall. 

“Everyone okay?” Dean asked, clearing his throat. 

“Yeah,” Sam said. Cas and the Nymphs nodded. “Let’s get out of here.”

The car ride back was quiet. None of them spoke until Dean had pulled up to the motel. He turned back to look at the Nymphs. “So, what happens to the cult now?” He asked. “Do they just, disband?”

_I don’t know, Aneia admitted. It depends on the members. But without the priestess, they’ll no longer be under the influence of magic._

“But they might still be cult members,” Dean said. 

_Most cults form without supernatural interference. I know it sucks, but you can’t force cult members out. It takes time to undo that sort of influence._

“So there’s nothing we can do?” Sam could tell from the frustration in his brother’s voice that it didn’t sit well with him, not that he’d expected it to or that it sat well with Sam, either. 

_Not unless you’ve got more training on this than we do._ She gave them a sympathetic smile. 

They climbed out of the car and went to clean up the motel room from their case research. Castiel ordered them food while they worked, and once it arrived, they took a break to eat. 

Sam noticed as everyone sat down that Kye still seemed somewhat uneasy around them. He sat a little distance away, but he didn’t seem frightened for himself. He kept looking between Aneia and the Winchesters like he still wasn’t quite convinced they wouldn’t try to hurt her. Aneia herself didn’t seem nervous, just a little distant, like the case had gotten to her, which he could understand. Still, they all kept the conversation light and enjoyed eating together. 

As they wrapped up, though, Sam decided to bring up the loose end to the case that had been bothering him. “The Nymph Ceres mentioned--are you planning to track them down?”

Aneia and Kye exchanged a quick glance, but that seemed to be all they needed. _We’re planning to try,_ Aneia said. 

“Do you want any help?” Dean asked. 

They both shook their heads. _We’ll handle it._

“Okay. If anything does come up, feel free to call,” Sam said. 

_You too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks for your patience! Next chapter will be the wrap up for this installment.


	7. Homeward Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters drive home, and Dean has some thoughts.

As Dean drove his family back to the bunker, he gave himself some time to process the case. He hated cults. He hated people inside his head, and though it had always been the case, humans had always been just as capable of evil as monsters, he hated the idea that humans could control each other as effectively as any supernatural intervention. 

Sure, this time also involved witches, but still. People, man. Sam and Cas were both sleeping, but tired as Dean was, he knew he’d be awake even if he wasn’t at the wheel. It had just been one of those cases that didn’t quite feel like it had a resolution. They’d move on, but the people in the cult might not. It was messy, and it gave him that uncomfortable helpless feeling. 

He’d started feeling it around the Nymphs, too--not the way he first had, that had actually been easier. Then he’d felt helpless because he felt invaded on a personal level with no defenses, but he’d had his regular solutions. He could fight them. Unorthodox as the methods sometimes had to be, he and his family had always figured out a way to fight whatever they were up against. 

But when Kye had snapped at him, had accused him of being ready to kill them, Dean had felt helpless again, in a so much worse way. How could he fight that? Fear of him? He had to admit it, both of the Nymphs had grown on him. He knew Kye had his reservations, but the Winchesters had worked with people from worse -- become friends even with people. Hell, it wasn’t like they’d gotten off on the best foot with Cas, or Claire, or Alex, or -- he could go on. 

He’d thought the last case they’d worked together went well. He’d thought it was a good sign that the Nymphs had reached out to them. They’d talked about it, but somehow, that didn’t feel quite resolved either. Everything was in flux.


End file.
